They emerged from the cheap seats, an unknown threat. I wondered as they brought a beat down, but then I began to think seriously. Though they dressed in tactical gear, I thought of them in a sense as fanboys coming from the cheap seats, dispensing their own justice, even at once standing behind the revered CM Punk, but for a price.
Love some postmodern commentary, and before they were booked in matches the Shield was just that, fanboys eating the industry, like the real fanboys complaining about shows on social media. Despite their costumes, of course.
Seth Rollins, Roman Raines and Dean Ambrose were a known commodity to management, slotted in immediately to title shots and main events, there entrance and subsequent quick ascension an anomaly in sports entertainment.
Then there is Bray Wyatt.
Bray acclimated and even helped to introduce others in his clique, but I tell you, if I crapped my pants and walked a distance, the feces would acclimate to my butt, legs and clothing, just as Bray interjected his presence into the WWE. That's a conjecture, not a criticism.
Through the beatdowns, given conveniently, for storyline in sports entertainment is a matter ultimately of convenience, with that good hedonistic calculus, the Shield acclimated themselves to touring and got to know the competition, and the competition came to know them, as well.
And seamlessly at the dissolution of the group, the grew character traits, like the gourd vine over the head of Jonah as he stared at Nineveh in anticipation.